The Unknown Grief of Molly Weasley
by Voldemort's Lovechild
Summary: this is my first fic so hope you like it : basically, it's just Molly finally speaking about the trauma of what her family went through to defeat mouldy Voldy, and how it affected her. I have possession over nothing- JK is queen, not me! sorry to report that story is currently suspended due to writer's block. Review and give me ideas PLEASE! literally begging now x
1. Prologue

**The Unknown Grief of Molly Weasley**

**Prologue**

I haven't exactly had the easiest life. I was only a young girl when my brother, Fabian, was murdered. Even school had its downside, but, at the end of the tunnel, there was a glorious ray of light; a ray of light named Arthur Weasley. Little did I know that, although Arthur himself would never hurt me, that the consequences of our love would come back and bite us again and again. But I knew we would get through it; he would make sure we would.


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**The Unknown Grief of Molly Weasley**

**The Hogwarts Express**

Your child's first day at a new school is always a nerve-wracking, and, in my case, heart-breaking experience. Normally, I'd have Arthur with me to help me keep my dignity, but the ministry were making him work so hard he couldn't spare any time. Five of them had already been through this, so I should've been used to it, but I was just the same; I was their mother. The need to fuss over him intensified even more when I noticed that his face was unusually grubby. I sighed- hankie time again.  
'Ron, you've got something on your nose.'  
He squirmed with all his might, and, with determination, managed to free himself. I inwardly suppressed a laugh- they grow up so quickly! I was vaguely aware of the teasing conversation about my son Percy's ego, so absorbed in my mental soliloquy that I only really paid attention when Fred (or was it George?) made an intriguing reference to a jet-black haired, unusually polite, bespectacled boy who had asked me how to get through the barrier to platform 9 ¾ . The twins seemed to think that he was _Harry Potter_! It couldn't be...but it was. One would expect me to have been gobsmacked, or awestruck, but instead I was filled with pity. No wonder he looked so lost.  
'Do you think he remembers what You-know-who looks like?' my feelings of anxiety towards Harry quickly changed to authoritative mother as I turned toward Fred.  
'I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school.'  
'All right, keep your hair on.'  
The train whistle blew loudly, and I shook myself-they would be fine. Completely fine. As the train pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Ron as he tried to find a compartment and a flashback of a certain first meeting ran before my eyes, like a muggle film...

'Muuuuuuuuuuum! Fabian's teasing me again!'  
'She said I was rubbish at Wizard's chess!'  
'Both of you just be quiet!'  
Mum hadn't shouted, but she hadn't needed to. The look on her face could've put even the best aurors to shame.  
'Now have a good term, Molly, and behave! Any reports of squabbling between you and Fabian, and I will curse you 'till the cows come home. Understood?'  
We both nodded, unwilling to say anything in case it annoyed her again. She kissed us both on the cheek, and Fabian closed the door to the train behind him.  
'See ya later, titch!'  
'Mum said no teasing!'  
He made a rude gesture and wandered off to sit in a compartment with a blonde girl, who's her covered half of her face. As if she could be that anti-social! I shook my head at the pair of them, and then started searching for somewhere to sit. I'd been looking for about a minute, when a tall boy with hair even redder than mine stuck his head out of the compartment to my right.  
'Hey, you can sit in here. I don't bite y'know.' His voice was crackly, as though it were on the verge of breaking. I gulped- he was in the year above!  
'I don't want to disturb anyone, or make them feel weird...'  
I trailed off, hoping he'd know what I meant, but, instead of nodding in agreement, a slow smile spread rapidly across his already cheerful face.  
'That's reassuring! Seriously, unless you start imitating wild animal noises and twitching, I think I'll be fine.'  
I chuckled and sat down opposite, with my trunk on the seat beside me. The boy closed the door, and sat back down.  
'I'm Molly, by the way. Molly Prewett.'  
I was about to put my hand out to shake his, but I stopped myself. That was stupid. Why would he care who I was, I was only a first-year. Whilst this inner babble was going on, I hadn't realised that, rather than shunning me, he'd leaned over and stuck his hand out instead. I looked at it, trying to take in the surprise, and quickly stretched to shake it. As our hands met, my heart suddenly fluttered and I knew that the name I was about to hear would be significant for the rest of my life.  
'Arthur Weasley.'


	3. Xmas

**The Unknown Grief of Molly Weasley**

**Christmas  
**'So, how's Ron getting on?'  
I knew that Charlie had only asked this to stop me nagging him about his hair. It grew past his shoulders, right down to the small of his stocky back, I mean, REALLY. I opened my mouth to carry on the lecture, when, thankfully, Arthur stepped in.  
'Well we haven't heard anything since Halloween, but I think he's settled in ok. He's friends with a girl called Hermione, and he very close to Harry Potter. I think the three of them truly became friends when Harry and Ron saved her from being savaged by a Troll.'  
The thought of what could've happened that night still haunts me, even now. Like most boys, Ron was of the permanent mind-set that he was invincible, and could handle anything life threw at him. Part of me wished that he was more cautious, but another part wished that he would never change. Once you become sensible, there was no going back, no matter how reckless you feel. Arthur shook his head, as though he were still in permanent relief (and disbelief!) that his youngest son had survived a battle with a fully grown Mountain Troll. Charlie, however, looked astonished.  
'So he makes friends with the only person to beat You-know-who, and then suddenly has to save his girlfriend from a troll? Hogwarts started him off lightly then.'  
He laughed, nervous at the thought that his brother had landed himself in such a kafuffle. Arthur turned his tired eyes to look at me, a guilty smile playing around his mouth.  
'It reminds me of the day his parents decided to unleash havoc in the common room.'  
Charlie looked curiously at the pair of us, a wide grin spreading across his freckly face. I stifled a giggle, and looked back at Arthur.  
'It seems like only Yesterday...'

It was Christmas Eve, in my third year, Arthur's fourth, and although the hall and grounds had been decorated, the castle itself was dead. Nobody was singing carols, nobody was giving out cards or wrapping presents, in fact, all anybody seemed to be doing was playing chess. As if I didn't get enough of that at home! It wasn't that I didn't like chess, but because Fabian can't play to save his life, he is constantly trying to beat me, to prove me wrong. It gets pretty tedious after a while. A scrunched up piece of parchment bounced off the back of my head. I looked around, and found Arthur grinning at me, pointing at the ball. I rolled my eyes and unravelled it. It was covered in his slanted, pointy writing.  
_Losing the will to live?  
_I looked up, and mouthed  
'What're you up to?'  
He raised his eyebrows and beckoned me out of the portrait hole. I sighed. If it were anyone but Arthur. I followed him to the Whomping Willow at a run, his legs making long strides that my stumpy legs couldn't keep up with.  
'Arthur, what's going on? What are we doing out here, we'll catch our deaths!'  
'It was dead in there, Molly! At least we can talk out here without someone frowning because we put them off their move! Anyway, do you fancy having some fun?'  
I was hesitant to answer. I'd had a ridiculously powerful crush on Arthur ever since he first shook my hand on the Hogwarts Express, but every time he said that, he always had some ludicrous scheme planned.  
'What kind of fun? If it's got anything to do with butter again, I'm not doing it!'  
He chuckled at my defiant expression  
'We're going to spice up Christmas...'

There were so many ways that this could go wrong, but I was naive, blinded by how gorgeous he looked when he smiled to know how stupid this was.  
'Hey, Fabian!'  
He turned, and then smirked at me, as though I were his personal jester.  
'Hey there, Titchy. Come to finally confess how inferior you are to my chess skills?'  
I replied quickly, to stop myself smacking that cocky lip-curl off his face.  
'Actually, I thought you could prove me wrong yourself. Game of chess, in front of the whole common room. I win; you leave me alone and accept that I might be better than you. You win, and I will be your personal house-elf for two months, and you get to gloat for the rest of the year.'  
I watched the triumphant expression on his face, as the cogs in his tiny brain fitted the pieces together.  
'Bring. It. On.'  
I smiled. I was going to enjoy this. I led him over two the table where I had been sitting, and found that Arthur had removed it, and put in its place his own chess set, but had transfigured to the size of real people. I turned to look at Fabian.  
'Ready?'  
I had to suppress a laugh at the look of grim determination on his face. He nodded. The game started, as usual, with Fabian moving all of his pawns before doing anything else. It was only when one of his Bishops had to be sacrificed that it started getting interesting. The whole common room had gathered around to watch the outcome.  
'Bishop to H3.'  
The bishop looked at him, tears rolling down its marble face.  
'I am happy to sacrifice myself, as the muggle Lord, Jesus, did, for my friends, as it truly embodies the spirit of Christmas. Ho Ho Ho!'  
Fabian stared at him, and, rather forcefully repeated his instruction. Suddenly, the bishop started changing shape. He grew slightly taller, as his belly rocketed outwards, protruding slightly from under a red jacket fastened with a black belt.  
'Ho Ho Ho, merry Christmas, Mr. Prewett!'  
As Fabian started to back away, the other chess pieces started changing too. Each one shrunk in height, with their ears growing larger and slightly pointy. Finally, when they had all stopped, they grouped together in a formation that resembled the shape of a large fur tree. They then started advancing on the now shaking with fright, Fabian.  
'Have you been a good boy?'  
Screaming, Fabian ran up the stairs to the boys' dorm, making everyone else scream and run for cover from the elves and Santa too. With a wave of his wand, Arthur returned the chess pieces to their normal shape and size, and then banished them to his bed. Suddenly, we heard footsteps, probably of a prefect. Without stopping to think, he grabbed my hand and pulled out of the portrait hole to a room I'd never seen before. It was huge, and contained many things the caretaker would've confiscated if they hadn't been in here, including a tiara type thing in the corner. But, I didn't take too much notice of this; as I was too busy yelling at Arthur.  
'That was the most stupid thing you have ever made me do! We will be in so much trouble!'  
There was a pause as we both looked at each other. Then, without warning, we both burst out laughing, unable to control ourselves. Several minutes later, we finally stopped laughing long enough to breathe, and I looked up.  
'That's odd. There was no mistletoe before.'  
I looked back at Arthur to see if he'd noticed, but he wasn't looking at the mistletoe. Slowly, he bent his face towards mine. I wasn't aware of my reaction until many hours afterwards, but I know that I had to stand on tip-toe to reach him. This was the moment I had been waiting for, for three years, and it was utter heaven. I don't know how long we were there, but when we finally broke apart, we knew we were past curfew. Arthur looked a bit embarrassed. He cleared his throat.  
'Well, goodnight then, Molly.'  
He turned to go, cursing himself under his breath, when I stopped him.  
'I love you, Arthur. Always have...I know you'll think I'm just saying that, but it's true. You're the one guy that never took the mickey, and when you smile, it warms me right to the cockles of my heart...and if it's any consolation, there's no need to feel stupid, you are an amazing kisser.'  
He stopped, and turned to look at me, his eyes rather wetter than they had been.  
'Molly, I...'  
'Shh...' I walked up to him and put my arms around his neck, my lips inches from his.  
'I know.'


	4. Summer

**The Unknown Grief of Molly Weasley**

**Summer Holidays  
**'Mum, stop fussing! I. Am. Fine. How many times do I have to tell you?'  
I hugged my youngest son, Ron, tightly to me for a few more seconds, and then released him.  
'I'm just so glad you're safe!'  
Ron's ears went pink, and I realised he'd noticed the tear tracks on my face. I quickly turned away, only to face Arthur, who, although he wasn't crying, was stood rigidly with a blank expression on his face- a sight I knew, and would become all too familiar with. Thankfully, I knew the cure.  
'Ron, dear, could you leave us for a few seconds? Why don't you write to Harry, he can come over if he wants to? Straight to bed after, though, it's nearly ten.'  
Ron glanced at his father, nodded slightly, then turned, and kissed my cheek. As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he turned again to face us.  
'I love you both, you know that right? I'd never do anything dangerous on purpose, you both mean too much to me.'  
I smiled gently to prove we understood, and then, looking slightly embarrassed, Ron disappeared up the stairs. I turned back to Arthur, and my smile faded. He'd never been a man to voluntarily show his emotions, but I'd always been able to read him, ever since that night in third year. Gently, I pushed him down into a chair (with difficulty, as his legs didn't want to bend). I bent down in front of him.  
'Arthur? Arthur, talk to me. It's me, it's Molly. He's fine, Arthur. He helped beat _You-Know-Who_! He's a hero! He's safe now, Arthur, he's with us now.'  
Finally, Arthur looked at me, tears falling freely down his naturally kind face from behind his wonky spectacles.  
'My son. My youngest son, Molly. _Our_ youngest son. Hogwarts is meant to be the safest place for him and Harry, so why?'  
'Because You-Know-Who is determined to finish what he started. He isn't dead Arthur, and for all we know, he never will be. But, our son stopped him, and who knows how far that will set him back? Will he lose everything all over again? Even his power of possession? All because of our son. Children learn from their parents, y'know. You should be proud, because, Arthur Weasley, you are the bravest, kindest, most decent person I know, and to see those traits showing in our son too means the world.'  
I waited with baited breath, to see if my soothing words had done the trick. Finally, he looked back at me, the roguish cheerfulness back in the deep, deep blue eyes that I had fallen for instantly, and smiled, his dimples still visible on his tired face.  
'I love you, Mollywobbles.'  
My heart fluttered at the use of his pet name for me, and I pulled him up off the chair, and kissed him, reaching up to put my arms around his neck. He responded gently, with one hand in the small of my back, and one in my wavy, flaming red hair, forgetting his anxiety and losing himself in the kiss, as though he wanted to melt away. Finally, we broke apart, both of us wearing the same guilty expressions we had as teenagers- how time had flown. Arthur yawned, and stretched, his arms pulling at a patch on his robes.  
'C'mon, I think it's time we went up.'  
'I'll be with you in a bit; I just need to put another wash on before the morning.'  
Arthur nodded, and muttered something like _what that woman does for me...  
_'Don't stay up too long; you need to sleep too, y'know.'  
I stuck my tongue out at him, and he grinned, and then left, making snoring noises at me all the way. Once I made sure he'd gone, I sank down into a chair, and put my head in my hands. I'd tried not to show my fear of what could've happened, I didn't want Arthur worrying about me on top of everything else, but it was torture. Only a few days ago, Ron had been fought a three-headed dog, got past a flock of winged keys, and then been knocked unconscious (an almost fatal blow, actually!) by a giant chess set, all in the name of loyalty. I dreaded to think what could've happened if he hadn't been knocked out- he could've ended up face to face with _You-Know-Who_, and we all know the consequences of that! I suppose though, it does prove how clever he is. I mean, he was helped by his friends, but still, nobody could've expected them to figure all of the stuff about the corridor and Flamel out at the age of just twelve, Harry not even that. I just wish he'd had the brains to tell someone rather than do it himself. Anyway, I was being silly. He was fine. I shook myself, flung the last of Fred's pants in the wash, and then went to bed. When I got there, Arthur was already asleep, the quilt wrapped around him like a cocoon, his face boyish and peaceful. I sighed and slid in beside him. All was well. For now...


End file.
